


Sweet and Sour

by MxTicketyBoo



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, First Kiss, Fluff with bite, Minor mention of blood, Pre-Time Skip, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23056138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxTicketyBoo/pseuds/MxTicketyBoo
Summary: “What’s the problem? We’re both here. You’re always challenging other people to spar anyway. Why not with me?”“I challenge people who’d make it worth my while, not amateurs.”Annette lifted her chin and clenched her free hand into a fist. “Sounds to me like you’re scared I’ll be better than you think I am.”
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 6
Kudos: 103





	Sweet and Sour

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the delightful [Training Sword+](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20978357) by RoseisaRoseisaRose, in that it starts off with Annette seeking out Felix at the training grounds to ask him to spar, but then, of course, it goes off in a different direction. (I wasn't sure about marking it as an associated fic because it's not a continuation of that story or anything, but I wanted to give credit where credit is due.)
> 
> Now, I'm new to the FE3H game (only been playing obsessively for about a month), and I'm even newer to the fandom (I've read maybe 4-5 fics, and all in the past week), so Annette challenging Felix to spar might just be a common premise, but I hope you'll enjoy my first Felannie contribution. <3 (Beware of italics and em-dash abuse. XD)
> 
> Thanks so much to [dustofwarfare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare) for the cheerleading and beta read! (She's an amazing writer. If you haven't read her stuff, do it!)

It wasn’t often Felix Fraldarius found himself alone at the training grounds. Of the students in the Officers Academy, he might widely be considered the most zealous about honing his craft, but he was also far from unique in his dedication to training as faithfully as the pious worshipped their goddess. These grounds were his cathedral, the armored practice dummies the saints who guided his progress, and his sword the one thing in life he looked to for grace.

This late at night, in the drowsy silence that had settled over the monastery, the torch-lit space felt almost holy. Only his soft grunts and the clang of blows meeting their intended target broke the quiet—until a tentative footstep and the glint of gold on a dark uniform caught his attention. Felix altered his trajectory mid-strike and spun to face his unexpected visitor, dropping into a defensive stance with well-practiced ease.

To his surprise, his housemate Annette stood there, a look of determination on her face, her auburn hair caught up in pigtails, and a leather scabbard clasped tightly in her hand.

“Are you lost?” he asked her. Surely, there could be no other explanation. Outside of lecture hours and seminars, Felix spent almost every waking moment of his free time at the training grounds, and he hadn’t once crossed paths with Annette. He’d assumed she’d never stepped foot in the building or that possibly she didn’t know where it was to begin with. Why she’d be there now, after midnight, he had no idea.

“No,” she said, voice high and nervous. “Actually, I came here looking for you.”

Felix dropped his arm to his side, the wooden training sword he’d been using held in a loose but sure grip. “Why? Is there some sort of emergency, or are you just here to lurk in the shadows and distract me?” He would’ve been harsher to nearly anyone else in the monastery who’d dared to interrupt his practice without a damned good reason, but Annette amused him enough to make him curious about her sudden appearance.

She stepped forward, her blush noticeable even in the low light from the torches, hesitant in a way he wasn’t used to from her. Normally, she didn’t think twice before yelling at him and calling him evil because he stumbled across her singing and dancing in a public place. The greenhouse, the kitchens, the gazebo, the library—though she’d been whisper-singing then and kept her dancing to a subtle sway as she reshelved a pile of books. Felix hated to admit it, but the word _cute_ had come to mind.

“Well?” he prompted when the silence stretched.

“I… I was wondering…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “ _Wouldyoubewillingtosparwithme_?”

The last part came out in such a tangled rush, it took Felix a moment to parse through it all. He blinked at her. “What.”

Annette cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. When she met his gaze again, Felix saw her resolve. “Could we spar? Together, I mean. I need to practice, and we both know your swordsmanship is second only to the professor.”

“So ask him to spar with you.”

“Professor has plenty to deal with already. I don’t want to add any more to his plate.”

“He was hired to teach his students. It’s the literal purpose of him being here.”

“Yes,” Annette said slowly, her thin brows furrowed, “but he has an entire class to worry about. He has to try to split his time evenly between lectures, one-on-one lessons, and his missions from Lady Rhea. Besides, you can teach me just as well as he can!”

Felix stared at her until Annette groaned.

“Seriously, Felix, do you really have to be the absolute _worst_ right now?” she snapped, whatever nerves she’d felt about approaching him apparently obliterated by the swell of her irritation. “What’s the problem? We’re both here. You’re always challenging other people to spar anyway. Why not with me?”

“I challenge people who’d make it worth my while, not amateurs.”

Annette lifted her chin and clenched her free hand into a fist. “Sounds to me like you’re scared I’ll be better than you think I am.”

Felix scoffed. “Try again. That sort of manipulation won’t work on me.”

“Really? I seem to recall hearing Flayn talk about how she got you to cut firewood by asking if you didn’t think you were as capable as some knight she saw do it.”

Felix grunted, because, fine, yes, that had been a thing.

Annette waited for another beat. “Okay,” she said with a shrug, “I’m sure Hilda or Dorothea can direct me to a knight who’d be willing to help me out. Good night, Felix.”

A _knight_? Felix scowled. As if a single one of them could compare to his skill with the blade. “Do you even know what to do with that thing?” he asked as she started to turn to leave. He jerked his head at the scabbard she held. “You realize that’s not a training sword, right?”

Annette growled, and the flush on her cheeks darkened. “I’m not an idiot, so yes, I do realize. I’d like to practice with the sword I’ll actually be using when I have to fight.”

Startled, Felix parted his lips, but it took him a few seconds to collect his thoughts enough to form a response. “That’s steel, yes? Seems rather dangerous. I’ve never seen you spar with a training sword. If you’re at the top of our class, you should be smart enough to know trying to run before you walk is ill-advised at best and downright reckless at worst.”

“My father taught me the basics when I was a child,” Annette informed him, but her eyes slid away from his and her mouth turned down at the corners. “Before he abandoned his family,” she added under her breath. Then, as quickly as the frown had come, it vanished. She shook her head and gave an airy, dismissive wave. “Anyway, what seems more dangerous to me is waiting until I’m on a battlefield to wield a sword like this for the first time. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Hmm.” Felix couldn’t find fault with that argument, at least. “Sound logic, I suppose.”

“So let’s do it.”

Felix tipped his chin. “Fine. But I won’t take it easy on you.”

“Great.” Annette gave a firm nod. “Treat me like anyone else. I can take it.”

“Hmph. As you wish.”

Felix went to retrieve his own sword. Not his only blade, of course, but his favorite. He was rarely without it, even here in Garreg Mach. By now, the hilt felt like an extension of his arm, the gleaming silver as familiar as his face in the mirror. It was deadly sharp and had vanquished dozens of enemies on the battlefield during the last few months alone. Usually, he’d never use such an imposing weapon for sparring practice. His control might be impeccable, but there were too many variables involved when training with partners who weren’t fellow masters of the art—not to mention the potential for collateral damage when the shared space was crowded with other students.

Felix didn’t imagine the archbishop, or his professor, would be very forgiving if someone accidentally got run through and bled out on the training grounds before a healer could arrive. The faculty kept bandages, salves, and concoctions on the premises for minor wounds—even wooden training swords could cause injuries when wielded carelessly—but scrapes and broken bones were nothing compared to the type of devastation a sword like his could wreak upon tender flesh.

But for now, they were alone, and Felix trusted himself not to cause Annette any sort of serious harm. Besides, he suspected this would be over quickly enough—just as soon as she resigned herself to being incredibly outmatched.

He approached Annette, who’d unsheathed her own blade and stood at the ready in the center of the training grounds. He stopped maybe a dozen paces away and assumed his usual stance.

“Let’s see if you can last for five minutes, shall we? Come at me,” he instructed. “ _Now._ ”

To her credit, Annette didn't hesitate. She charged at him immediately, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowed. 

_Perfect_ , Felix thought. There was no time for hesitation in times of war.

When she reached him, she swung with intent, as if she were seeking recompense in the form of blood for all the times he’d teased her since they wound up as classmates in the Blue Lions house. Felix easily deflected, and Annette leaped back with surprising agility for someone who was always tripping over barrels or sometimes nothing at all.

“Good,” Felix told her. “Again.”

It went well enough for the first couple of minutes. True to his earlier words, Felix didn’t take it easy on her—he wouldn’t do her that disservice—but he did adjust his fighting to something closer to her level. He wanted to teach her a lesson, but he wasn’t aiming to hurt or humiliate her, and he couldn’t quite forget exactly _who_ he was facing off against.

Then, abruptly, the situation started to unravel. Annette kept repeating the same strike over and over—identical form, similar speed. The next time, Felix neatly sidestepped, and as she flew past him, he used the flat of his blade to deliver a light whack to her left flank.

“If we were on a mission, you’d be dead right now.”

Annette stumbled to a halt and rounded on him, eyes blazing. Another charge, this one accompanied by a battle cry, fierce as a valkyrie, but this blow was wilder, more desperate. She knew the raw tenets of swordsmanship, that much was true, but her technique was unpolished, her defense nonexistent. In the end, the basic principles of swordplay didn’t necessarily translate to actual proficiency or the type of intuition that evolved throughout years of practice.

If she tried this on the battlefield, she really would be killed in a matter of minutes. No question.

So why? _Why_ did she feel the sudden need to fight up close and personal when she possessed the sort of magic that allowed her to destroy her enemies from the safety of the back lines? Mages could be deadly as sin, frightening in their own right, but when it came to actual physical combat, they were no match for brute strength.

In his mind, Felix saw her crumpled on the dirt, battered by steel gauntlets or gutted by a blade, crimson blood pooling beneath her and her bright blue eyes dimming until the light that made them shine had been totally snuffed out. All that vital energy that made her _her_ would be gone. She’d be an empty shell, like his brother had been when his body was returned home after the Tragedy of Duscur.

He wouldn’t ever hear her singing those dumb songs again or watch her doing those awkward, clumsy dances. And for what? It wasn’t her responsibility to man the front lines or intentionally put herself in harm’s way. That duty fell to him and the likes of the boar. Not her. Not when she had the power to fight from afar.

Before he knew what was happening, Felix had her backed into a corner, and his typically ironclad control abandoned him under a rush of irrational fear.

Annette stared at him, eyes wide and chest heaving. Her sword clattered to the stone floor, and her fists clenched at her sides. Felix had the tip of his blade just under her chin, only inches from her throat. She should’ve been terrified—and she did appear shocked and wary—but she didn’t look scared. She held his gaze, unwavering as Felix stood there and silently ordered his body to retreat, lower the sword. He prided himself on his self-discipline, but right now he couldn’t get a single limb to obey him.

Felix didn’t know how long they would’ve stood there if not for the shout of alarm and the tall blond that suddenly manifested beside them.

“What are you _doing_?” Dimitri demanded. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” 

Dimitri disarmed him in a move Felix could’ve avoided in his sleep had he not been mentally reeling. Felix didn’t even have it in him to wonder what Dimitri was doing there so late or how he’d known they were sparring.

Instead, he stood there in stunned silence as Dimitri exclaimed over the tiny well of blood on the point of Annette’s chin and swept her off while declaring, “We will go to the infirmary at once!”

Annette started arguing before they even made it to the exit. “Oh, no, I’m fine, just—”

Her words muffled as the door swung closed behind them, and then Felix was alone again. Except now the quiet didn’t comfort him. It echoed with the boar’s recriminations. 

Felix usually dismissed anything Dimtri said out of hand—he was so painfully _earnest_ about everything, always, but Felix knew the sinister darkness that lurked underneath, and he’d never forget. This time around, though, perhaps Dimitri had been right to react in that ardent way of his.

For just a second there, Felix _had_ lost his head.

Deep down, he’d known he harbored some sort of… feelings for Annette. He liked her sweet, melodious voice, her cheery laugh, her intelligence, the way she dedicated herself so whole-heartedly to every task. Sure, she could be scatterbrained and loud and sometimes annoying, but on the whole, unless he was training, he generally didn’t mind her company—unlike most of the other students at the academy, whose mere faces irritated him to the point it made him want to curl his lip in disgust.

Felix had never examined those Annette feelings very closely. In fact, he’d actively and knowingly _avoided_ examining them.

He’d come to the academy because he wanted to be the best, and to do that, he had to train under the best. He wasn’t here for petty frivolities. He’d never answered the handful of admiring letters he’d received from the sort of girls Sylvain loved to chase. They’d given him up for a lost cause as soon as he’d made it clear he wouldn’t stand for such pointless nonsense. He wasn’t seeking relationships, not even friendships. He hadn’t come to Garreg Mach to bond with his classmates. All Felix craved was knowledge and the skill to be a better leader than his pathetic old man, to protect the people he was responsible for. That was it. So… 

“What the hell was _that_?” Felix asked aloud, staring down at his hands as if they’d sprouted a few new fingers since the last time he looked.

The armored dummies didn’t answer him.

***

It took a solid week for Felix to work up the nerve to find Annette and apologize, which was ridiculous. Since when did Felix Hugo Fraldarius have to work up the nerve to do _anything_? Nevertheless, he dithered and avoided her for days.

He’d been confronted by Dimitri in the dormitories the morning after the sparring incident and learned that Dimitri had been wandering the grounds while restless and unable to sleep. He’d overheard the noise from the training grounds and gone to investigate and walked in to see Felix holding a sword to Annette’s throat. Annette had admitted she’d been the one to seek Felix out, but still, “How dare you behave so irresponsibly, Felix? What were you _thinking_?”

Felix hadn’t even ordered the beast out of his sight or threatened to cut him down where he stood, because, really, that was the question of the hour, wasn’t it? 

How irritating, though, for it to be _him_ who’d voiced the thoughts plaguing Felix since that night.

The one positive? Their professor hadn’t caught wind of Felix’s lapse in judgement. Or at least, that intense stare wasn’t any more piercing or disconcerting than usual, and Felix was fairly certain his taciturn instructor would find _quite_ a few things to say about Felix endangering one of his housemates, even one fully capable of defending herself and destroying him with a sagittae spell or a cutting gale were she so inclined. Which meant the professor didn’t know.

For all Dimitri’s faults—Felix could easily list _dozens_ —and his increasingly obvious infatuation with their professor, he wasn’t a rat. A crazed animal, yes, but not one to tell tales. Then again, they all had their secrets, didn’t they? The boar prince probably expected Felix to confess to his transgression, the way he doubtless would if the professor even looked at him for three seconds too long. But Felix could scarcely stomach the idea of disclosing such a shameful loss of control to a man he respected so much.

Still, he owed Annette an apology, and though he wasn’t one who liked to admit being in the wrong, he intended to deliver.

***

Felix waited until after dark to look for Annette. A slumberous atmosphere had fallen over the monastery once again, and the grounds were eerily quiet, but he knew Annette rarely went to bed at a decent hour. She was always working hard, studying, doing chores, flitting around from one place to another. 

Her room was the most obvious location to check first. Felix found the doors ajar and candlelight spilling onto the stone walkway, cutting through the darkness. He heard her voice even before he got close enough to look inside. Then there she was, her back to him, singing and swaying and swinging her arms a little. 

The nonsensical lyrics were enough to make Felix smile in spite of himself.

_“Sleepity sleep_

_Gonna count some little sheepity sheep_

_Gotta put my nightgown on_

_Close my eyes ‘til the break of dawn!_

_Counting sheepity sheep…”_

Felix didn’t think to knock until her hands disappeared in front of her and he realized she’d started unbuttoning her uniform jacket, likely to put on the aforementioned nightgown.

Now, it would be a lie for Felix to say he didn’t enjoy watching her do these little song-and-dance routines when she was out in public and it was totally harmless, but when she was in her room and thought she was alone? That was not a line he was willing to cross. Ever.

So, he cleared his throat and rapped on the partially open door.

Annette let out a shriek that shook the rafters and turned so fast she tripped over her own feet and started falling.

Only Felix’s quick reflexes saved her from hitting the floor face first.

He caught her slender shoulders in a firm grip to steady her. It was the first time they’d ever touched, but Felix didn’t have so much as a second to process the heat of her body through the material of her clothing before Annette whacked him across the chest and wrenched away.

“Felix!” she shouted, her hand pressed over her heart. “You scared me half to death! Don’t you know it’s rude to just come into someone’s room without knocking?”

“I did knock.” Felix jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Your doors were open.”

Annette looked past him and sighed. “Crap. I thought I’d closed them, but this wouldn’t be the first time I forgot.” She backed up another step, putting more space between them. “Well, now that you’re here already, did you need something?”

For a moment, Felix couldn’t think of what to say. His gaze caught and held on her chin, or rather the rapidly fading mark there. The cut probably wouldn’t scar, and it was so tiny it could easily be overlooked even if it did, but he hated to see it. And he absolutely _loathed_ that he’d been the one to put it there.

Felix crossed his arms over his chest and dragged his eyes away, focusing on a spot above her head—which wasn’t very hard to do when she just barely reached his shoulder to begin with.

“I came to apologize.”

“For the cut?” Annette asked. “It was nothing.”

“It’s _not_ nothing,” Felix gritted out. He looked down at her, at those guileless blue eyes and heart-shaped face. What was it about this girl that fascinated him so much? 

He didn’t like it.

“I’m fine.” Annette gestured to her chin. “See? It didn’t need a healing spell or anything. Mercie loaned me her special salve. In a few more days, it’ll be like it never happened.”

“But it _did_ happen.”

Annette’s brow creased, and she tilted her head to the side. “So what? It was an accident. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me.”

“That’s besides the point.” Felix brushed his hair off his forehead in frustration. “I lost control, and that’s something I can’t allow. I regret that it went so far.”

“Okay,” Annette said slowly. “But I’m not mad at you. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m the one who asked you to spar, not the other way around.”

“Well, maybe you _should_ be mad at me.”

Annette shook her head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love an explanation for what happened that night, but I’m not angry. I never was.”

“Annette—”

“No, _listen_ ,” she interrupted, earnest and as fiery as her hair. “I appreciate the apology, but like I said, I know you weren’t trying to hurt me. You can be hard to read, Felix. You’re so prickly and... sometimes I wonder if you hate us all, and me in particular.” She dropped her head and clasped her hands in front of her. “But when we were sparring, for a second there, you… Well, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. I figured I’d probably pushed you too far, sparked some horrible memory of your—of, of _something_. I’m the one who badgered you into practicing with me, and I felt awful afterward. Like I’d hurt you somehow.”

Felix hesitated. “It wasn’t a memory,” he said carefully, after a few beats of silence. “It was... a vision of what might come to pass. And yes, it did scare me.”

Shock washed over her face. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.” She blinked up at him in wonder. “You don’t seem like someone who’d be scared by anything. You, you’re brave and talented and strong. What could I possibly do to frighten you?”

Felix huffed, sliding his gaze away from hers. When she looked at him like that, it was easy to imagine she was seeing past his barriers and right into his soul—and that was one thing Felix never wanted laid bare for anyone. “You didn’t do anything. _You_ don’t scare me.”

“But—”

“It was the thought of you getting hurt,” Felix said, cutting her off with a rough gesture. “I was… disturbed by the idea that you would put yourself at risk by engaging in armed combat when you have such powerful magic at your disposal. No, not just disturbed—I couldn’t stand the idea. You’re not one of the infantry, you’re a secret weapon. You don’t _need_ to fight on the front lines. So why would you want to?”

Annette’s mouth fell open. Felix watched as a blush started in her cheeks and diffused across her face like water soaking into fabric.

When she didn’t speak, he continued. “If you live by the sword, there’s a good chance you’ll meet your death at the end of one too. That’s just statistics. I don’t want that for you. I want… I want you to be safe.”

“Felix,” Annette breathed, her eyes shining.

His face went hot.

“I… I don’t want to fight on the front lines. It’s just, I don’t want to be good at just one thing. I want to be good at everything I try.” She paused, shaking her head. “I’ve been called an overachiever, and maybe I am. I talked to Professor Byleth this week and decided from now on, I need to try my best not to try my best.”

Felix turned that over in his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It does, though. See, what I realized is I should play to my strengths. I’d love to be good with a sword, or at least knowledgeable enough not to lop off my hand if I try to use one. Just in case something happens and I can’t use my magic and my sword is the only thing between me and an enemy, you know? But I do tend to run into things head first sometimes. I challenged you without thinking it through.” Annette’s mouth twisted wryly. “It’s like when Mercie tried to teach me to sew, and I just expected to be good at it right away. I got so mad at myself for not being perfect immediately I wanted to give it up altogether. Maybe swordsmanship is not my forte. Or maybe I need to learn to walk before I run, like you said. It’s just… I work hard, always, at everything. I don’t like feeling like a failure.”

That, Felix could relate to. “I don’t like feeling like a failure either.”

Annette smiled. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.”

Felix huffed at her playful tone. “I’m still sorry. I pride myself on my control.”

“And all it took for you to lose it was the thought of me hurt, huh?” Annette was teasing him, but her face was as red as his felt.

Felix scoffed and started to step back. “If you’re just going to make a joke of it, I’ll—”

Annette reached out and grabbed his arm. It was so unexpected Felix found himself automatically going along with the motion as she yanked him down closer to her height. She went up on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, there and gone like the flutter of a butterfly wing.

“You’re sweet, Felix,” she whispered. “I couldn’t tell before. You do a good job of hiding it. But you are, aren’t you?”

Felix turned his head, intending to deliver the scathing retort such a comment deserved, but her lips brushed his, and in the next second, they were kissing properly.

She was wrong. He wasn’t sweet. But _this_ was—her palms cradling his cheeks, his hands making their way to her waist, their mouths lightly touching, exploring, soft and slow. It started off a little unsure on both sides, but grew bolder. Still nothing like the filthy kisses he’d seen Sylvain getting up to in the monastery's darkest corners. But… not bad for his very first, all things considered. Felix was fairly certain it was hers too.

He released her the moment Annette started to pull away. She didn’t meet his eyes, but she was smiling as she stepped back.

“I should go,” Felix said, for lack of anything better.

Annette nodded. “Yeah. Um… Good night, Felix.” Her voice was soft and slightly husky.

Felix wanted to kiss her again. Instead, he dipped his head and left the room, tugging the doors shut behind him. A few steps down the walkway, he leaned against one of the stone columns and allowed himself a soft laugh.

Well… That hadn’t gone at all the way he’d planned, insomuch as he’d had any sort of plan when he’d set off searching for her earlier. They’d have to talk about the kiss at some point, maybe. Or maybe not. For now, the tightness in his chest had eased.

It wasn’t often he slept well, but as he made his way to his room, Felix suspected tonight his dreams would be pleasant enough to keep him under until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm considering writing a post-time-skip followup to this, and I will if a good idea strikes. :D
> 
> Come find me [on my fandom Twitter](https://twitter.com/MxTicketyBoo), if you'd like to chat about FE3H or this pairing in particular!


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